


Miserable at Best

by cutsiecastiel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Homophobic Slurs, M/M, just one but still
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-05
Updated: 2015-08-05
Packaged: 2018-04-13 04:19:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4507497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cutsiecastiel/pseuds/cutsiecastiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been five years since Dean ran out on Castiel, and now Cas is getting married. This is Dean's last chance at happiness with the man he loves</p>
            </blockquote>





	Miserable at Best

It’s been five years. Five goddamn years since Dean had his stupid gay panic and lost the best thing to ever happen to him. And he wasn’t even gay.

For three whole years Dean had managed keep himself happy and okay, _and_ keep his boyfriend a secret. A secret from his brother, his dad, his school, from _everyone_. But when they had graduated, Dean had slipped up. He kissed him. He kissed Cas in front of the entire graduating class. Everyone was staring, even those that didn’t care. It felt like every single set of eyes there had been on them, and in that moment, Dean had let all of his fears surface. All that panic that he’d shoved down, that he’d only let himself contemplate late at night when he couldn’t control his thoughts, all that panic had surfaced right then and there.

And so he ran.

That was the first of many times to come that Dean Winchester decided to run. That night his dad had yelled at him, had cursed, and shouted, and screamed about how he “didn’t raise no fag.”

That night was also the beginning of a long road of alcoholism and a lack of coping mechanisms.

Dean had drank too much. He’d cried for the loss of any semblance of a _chance_ he’d had at earning his dad’s respect. And then he took it out on Cas. He’s called him and he’d told him about how it was all his fault, that his dad could never love him now, that Sammy would never look at him the same, that Cas was the cause of everything _wrong_ in his life.

He’d been lying. Cas was the only light he had in a dark and dismal world without his mom, without his dad’s love, without any other purpose other than to look out for his brother. He had Sammy, but Sammy was a snot nosed teenager and Cas was so _good_ and so _pure_ and everything that Dean was not, and he had wanted to hide him away and keep him for himself but he’d muddied him up in the process. He wanted Cas to hurt as much as he did in that moment and so he told him he was done, that _they_ were done.

The next morning, Dean had woken up with a hangover to end all hangovers and a heavy heart. He’d ruined what he had with Cas, just like he ruined everything else in his life. So he packed a duffle bag, snuck downstairs to see his father passed out drunk as fuck on the couch, stole the keys to his dad’s Impala and hit the road.

He had left a note on his brother’s door, which simply said “Sammy let me go,” and he drove off to his Uncle Bobby’s house. It’s been five fucking years and Dean hasn’t gone back home to Florida since then, and now he’s back with a little card that Sammy sent him. It had to have been Sammy. There’s no way that the invitation actually was for him. That would be an even crueler joke than having go back in the first place.

_You are invited to witness the wedding of Castiel Novak and Balthazar Roché._

It’s been five years since Dean has spoken to Cas, and now he’s getting married.

He’s been back for three days. Three days with no real sleep and he’s existing off of coffee and whiskey. He’s seen his brother, avoided his dad, did his best to avoid thinking about a pair of blue eyes that shone brighter than all the stars in the sky combined, considered calling up old high school buddies, and considered hightailing it back home. Cas is happy and he’s getting _married_. Dean is no place to interfere.

And yet here he finds himself standing on the front porch of his first love’s house, finger hovering over the doorbell. He’s not an idiot, he’s not going to lie to himself and say that Cas is alone right now. There are two cars in the driveway; Cas’s old as hell Lincoln and a shiny, red sports car. Dean knows this _Balthazar_ is in there. And what if he answers the door? Is it possible that he would recognize Dean? What from, Dean doesn’t know. But it wouldn’t do well to have his ex’s fiancé answer the door when Dean drove over 1500 miles try to convince Castiel to call off the wedding; that Dean was an idiot and that he needs him.

Dean almost leaves. Almost. Instead he presses the doorbell and is simultaneously glad that he’s sober, and wishes that he were drunk right now. A man opens the door.

He looks like Cas, he really does. But he’s not. This is Castiel Novak-Roché. He has the same floppy, dark brown hair as Cas did, but it’s shorter. It doesn’t stick up like he’s just had sex, and it doesn’t curl behind his ears anymore. He’s slightly more tanned too, with more noticeable muscles poking out from under the sleeves of his t-shirt. Gone is the pale, skinny kid Dean knew in high school. The only thing that screams _Cas_ to him are this man’s eyes. They’re still as fucking blue as the ocean and they still shine brighter than anything Dean’s ever seen.

That is, they do until they focus on Dean and widen in shock before darkening. “Dean?”

“Cas.” He sighs his name out like a prayer; this is his Cas. _His_. And holy fucking shit has Dean missed him.

“Dean. What are you doing here.” Dean nearly winces at the sharpness of his tone. It’s accusatory and _hurt_. Dean hasn’t spoken to him in five years. He’s not sure what he was expecting.

It wasn’t this.

“I heard you were getting married. Sammy, he uh, he told me. I just- I wanted to talk to you.” Dean stammers. He’s starting to really wish he’d had more whiskey. Or maybe that he had actually ate anything since he got here.

“It’s been five years. And you wish to talk _now_?” Cas says. His jaw clenches. He’s angry at Dean. He should be. “I would invite you in to talk but my _fiancé_ is inside, and this is not a conversation I want to have in front of him.” He says the word ‘fiancé’ as if he’s trying to rub it in Dean’s face. _“I’ve moved on. I love someone else now._ I don’t need you anymore.”

Cas closes the door behind him and stands in front of Dean, arms crossed with a blank expression on his face. He’s gotten taller. He’s nearly as tall as Dean is now.

“Look, Cas. I was- I was wrong. I was so, so fucking _wrong_. I was hurting and- and I needed you to hurt like I did. So I lied. That day, I didn’t mean it. I didn’t mean a single word I said. I love you man.” This is the first time has said this to Cas. The first time he’s even said it allowed. The words were never easier to say than they were right then.

“I don’t believe you.” Dean doesn’t think Cas has ever second guessed something he’s said so easily.

Dean’s heart breaks just a little bit more with each word. “Cas, _please_. Nothing... Nothing feels like _home_ anymore, not like it did. No matter how bad things got at home, this was home because _you_ were here and now you’re over a thousand miles away and- and I’m standing right in front of you and it still feels like that.” Dean’s eyes prickle. He can’t cry now. If he cries now he won’t be able to finish the conversation. Not properly at least. “I love you Cas, I’ve always loved you.”

Cas looks sadly at him for a moment before taking a deep breath. “I don’t.”

Whatever hope Dean had had is gone. His heart can’t take anymore abuse; what little pieces had been left has been crushed into dust and he can’t feel his body anymore. His fingertips are tingling and his ears are ringing and _Cas doesn’t love him_.

“Cas-“ His voice sounds broken, even to him. He doesn’t feel the tears, so much as he _tastes_ them; salty and bitter against his tongue.

“Dean, listen. I loved you. More than anything. But you- you couldn’t take it. You panicked and you left and you destroyed us. I kept waiting. I thought you’d call. Tell me you didn’t mean it, that you were just upset because of your dad, and no matter how shitty you treated me I would have forgiven you. God damnit Dean, I would have _forgiven you_!” Cas is angry now. His composure broken for a moment before he takes a breath and regains it. “You didn’t deserve it, but I would have, Dean. And three weeks later you hadn’t called. And three months later you hadn’t called. And three years later you still hadn’t fucking called and I buried us. Do you understand? I let go and I _buried us_ , along with every hope of you ever coming back to me and you choose _now_? I’m getting married in three weeks and you choose _now_ to come back into my life and tell me that you love me? No, Dean. I can’t. I loved you, and a part of me always will. But I’m with Balthazar, and I’m _happy_ Dean. I’m happy, for the first time in five years.”

“I’m sorry. I’m so _fucking sorry._ I should have-“

“Five years Dean.” His voice is soft, like he’s trying to soothe a wild animal. His eyes are dry and Dean’s are red, and puffy, and wet, and he’s a _mess_ and Cas is unaffected. “Your apology is five years too late.”

He turns as if he’s going to go back inside. “Cas, please. It’s- I’ve- I _know_ it’s been five years, not a day goes by that I don’t feel the weight of five whole fucking _years_ of not seeing you, of not hearing your voice, of thinking of someone else kissing your cheek. Cas I’ve lived the past five years struggling to even _breathe_ without you. You- you can’t just leave.”

“Like you left me?” Cas’s voice is too soft though. Too deadly. Castiel knows Dean better than anyone other than _maybe_ Sam, he knows what he could say to damage Dean the most. Because as selfish as it is, yes. Yes, like Dean left Cas. Cas _knows_ that Dean can’t take that. Can’t take being abandoned the same way he abandoned Cas all those years ago. They both know it would destroy Dean. “I think it’s time you go.”

Dean chokes on a sob. It doesn’t sound human. “I get it. I- I get it.” Dean takes a breath. Composes himself. He speaks calmly, way calmer than he. “I get the point that I should leave you alone but I can’t. I’m not that strong Cas. You know that.”

“With you, it seems leaving is less of a feat of strength, but one of cowardice.” Dean shakes his head, tries to open his ‘mouth to respond but words won’t come out. His throat is closing up and he can’t fucking _breathe_. Goodbye, Dean.”

Dean is left on the doorstep with tears staining his face and shirt. His heart is beyond repair and he doesn’t want to go back home; _can’t_ go back home, because home just walked through that door. It wasn’t supposed to end like this. Their story wasn’t meant to _end_ like this. But Dean knew it wouldn’t work out. Deep inside Dean knew. Even if they existed, Dean didn’t deserve a fairytale ending. Not after he ran out on the people he loved. No, if anyone deserved a perfect ending, it was Cas, and he was getting it.

And besides, Dean would live. Not terribly happily, but he would. The best he could hope for, would be being miserable. At best.


End file.
